Shadowchild
by Ray Venn Hakubi
Summary: Valen, Bhodi's henchgirl, is a character who seems to have intrigued many people based on the fact she has her own mod! This is my take on her story... despite being ActionAdventureRomance, the third Genre could probably be Horror, however.
1. Valen

**Disclaimer:** Baldur's Gate and it's sequels, along with the characters Valen and Rose (and others who will appear later) are property of Bioware and Wizards of the Coast.

The plot, the Circle of Shadows, and all other associated characters are mine, however.

* * *

**Chapter One - Valen**

The young woman grinned to herself as she counted coppers from the pouch she held in her hand into the palm of the other. The woman - more a girl - was fifteen years old, and glad of her still slight frame. If she'd been more developed, maybe, she'd have ended up like her friend Rose, a streetwalker. As far as the ebon-silk haired Valen was concerned, however, thievery was a much better option. If she was a streetwalker, she would have to put up with men.

Valen herself was small, not yet with her full growth. She wore a linen shirt with a draw-string at the neck and long sleeves, tailored for a male, and loose, dark britches that completely concealed her figure. Her brown eyes were soulful when she let them be, but mostly held nothing but contempt for those slower or less alert than her. Some day she hoped to progress beyond lifting and filching, but for now it was all she could do. For anything more rewarding, she'd need equipment like rope and trap-probes. Or maybe she could find some idiot adventurers and sign on as a trapper. Trick one of them into teaching her to fight, or use magic. She was pretty sure that if she put her mind to it, she could learn magic. She'd never been able to resist spitting in the eye of authority. Or at least at the back of its head.

"Yeah. I'd be Valen Firefingers, and then the cowl's'd laugh on t'other side of their faces." she snorted to herself with derision. Maybe some day, but right now she'd get some food and see how her friend was doing. Pushing off the beam she was sitting on, she dropped down to the next one before jumping across to the half-finished floor of the building she'd been lurking in. It was probably meant to be an inn or something, but she was pretty sure that if so, when it was finished it would be closed down pretty quick. Lehtinan didn't much appreciate it when others started up business in his area. Not even the shadow thieves messed with that slaver.

Moving through the streets of Athkatla at a stroll, Valen fixed the pouch of coins onto her own belt and pulled her cap down over her face. The streets started looking better kept as she left the slums, until there was a marked change as though she was stepping into a different city. In a way, she was. The bridge was practically a city of its own, with businesses and homes set up here and there. Most importantly, the bridge district was the home of the fishermen and the performers. The Five Flagons held the city's premier playhouse, and the multitude of fishmongers here far outstripped those at the docks in both quality and quantity. Buskers stood here and there on the streets, but actors and musicians weren't the only performances on offer. Prostitutes - both streetwalkers and hookers for the large brothel that took up most of the bridge - wandered with fire-eaters. Dancers made every step a joy, while living statues stayed silent and frozen in the hope that someone would take pity and put money in their hats. Valen pressed her lips together as she saw her target speaking with a most unwelcome figure. A moment later, the man left however, and Valen grinned to herself and headed towards the streetwalker he'd been conversing with. Stopping at a pastry seller, she tossed the man a couple of coppers and got a pair of hot meat pasties in return. In the bridge district, it was always as though the circus was in town.

"Heyla, Rose, was that Sergeant Aigisfeld I saw ya talkin' with?" she spoke just loud enough to be heard over the din as she offered the slightly older woman one of the pasties. She took it and grinned.

"Sure was. Hey, Vay, what's with the generosity?" She lifted the pasty to indicate.

"Just feelin' lucky. So, what's with the sarge? You and a watchman? I thought.." Valen trailed off.

"Just a customer." Rose replied with a chuckle at Valen's surprised look.

"You.. he... he hired you?!" The thief realised that she was almost shrieking, and curbed it. "But that would mean.."

"Yep. I got a licence." Rose grinned.

"So that's why I bought you a pasty!" Valen laughed. "Congrats. How'd you get the cash to pay though..?" she frowned. "You didn't do anything bad, did you?"

"Oh, don't look like that. Of course I didn't. I do have some limits... I just nicked a lordling when 'e was plunderin'."

Valen blinked.

"That's... You... " Her face broke into a grin. "I'm so proud of you, Rose!" She grabbed the girl with one hand, hugging her while holding the remains of her pasty with the other.

"Why? I just took a leaf out of my favourite cutpurse' book." Rose grinned back, but Valen shook her head.

"It's one thing to double-team a mark, but that's one hell of a distraction tactic. I almost wish I could do that kind of thing."

"You could, you know." The older girl was looking at her strangely, Valen realised.

"No way. I'm not pretty enough to sell myself, and I don't exactly have much in the way of womanly charms." she gulped down the last corner of her pasty and waved a hand roughly in the direction of her chest and knife-edged features.

"You're pretty enough, Valen. You just don't see it. Besides, some men like them smaller, rather'n huge lobster-buoys like these." She indicated her own rather large assets, referencing the spheres of brightly coloured wood used to mark lobster pots by the sailors down at the docks.

"If you say so... I'm still better at lifting."

"Ah, you're just scared." Rose jibed back, and Valen jerked guiltily. "Knew it! Valen's scared of men!" she taunted, playfully.

"Am not! I just... don't like them. Stupid, ugly, violent brutes." the shorter girl scowled.

"Valen.." The thief looked up at the uncertainty in her friend's voice. "Are you... do you like girls, then?"

"What?" Valen blinked at the idea. Something told her that her friend didn't mean just as friends. "I've.. never thought of it like that." She shrugged, noncommittally. To tell the truth, it wasn't something she wanted to think about. "Does it matter? To tell the truth, I don't want to be a heart-thief. I'm happier dealing in coins."

"Well, I guess if that's what you want. It's more profitable my way, that's all..."

"No, no. There's nothing wrong with it. It just doesn't suit me." Valen shrugged. "Anyway... I'd better be off. You know how it is - places to go, money to make. Besides, I think you have a potential." Valen slipped away, leaving Rose to turn and see the brightly-dressed man strolling down the bridge and admiring the painted women at its edges.


	2. Lehtinan

**Disclaimer:** Baldur's Gate and it's sequels, along with the characters Valen and Rose (and others who will appear later) are property of Bioware and Wizards of the Coast.

The plot, the Circle of Shadows, and all other associated characters are mine, however.

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Lehtninan**

Valen looked at the man who had entered her hiding place warily, staying hidden out of sight among the roof beams. He wore a grey cloak over what might have been chainmail, and a lowered hood hung around his neck.

"Show yourself, little thief. I know you're here, Valen." He looked around, shoulder-length blonde hair moving to reveal slightly pointed ears. "Lehtinan wants to talk to you, and you know what'll happen if you anger him."

"Its the middle of the night. What's he want?" She asked, throwing her voice so as not to reveal herself. Predictably, the cloaked man turned to look at where the voice had come from.

"Its time to pay your dues, little Valen."

"I don't have the money. He knows that. So do you, I'd bet."

"Its a nice place you've got yourself here, Valen. It'd be a shame to lose it all. He doesn't want money. Just a little job for you."

"I don't do burglary." The human frowned to herself. She knew the slaver's tastes ran to Rose's type rather than hers, so he wouldn't want her for that either. Maybe he meant to put her in the pits, but she was too scrawny to be a really good fighter.

"You'll do this. He says to meet him at the ship before dawn. On the deck."

"The ship, or the boathouse?" This was getting worse. If it was the boathouse, then it was something to do with the slaving side of his business...

"You know he doesn't go near the docks." The man said, then simply turned and walked away. Valen waited to make sure he was really gone before dropping down into the main part of the den, standing in the middle of the floor with her head down and hands in her pockets.

"Damn. Damn. Damn!" She swore, then kicked at a rock on the floor. "If I go, I don't know what he'll do. I don't want to end up inside that boat... but if I don't go, then he'll destroy this place and I'll lose everything. I won't be able to stay free long... I'd have to go to the hoods for protection, then no more escape. Damn, you, Lehtinan." She sighed, then went over to the chest of drawers she'd filched from the ruin of a building. It was a little scorched along one side, and two of the drawers were missing, but she liked it enough that the top drawer was devoted to her two most prized possessions.

It was this drawer that she opened, taking forth the dagger she'd taken from an adventurer's belt and slipping it into her boot, then the pouch containing the tools she'd lifted from a drunk shadow-thief who had been careless enough to fall asleep outside the Secret Shrine that had raised both her and Rose until they'd left when they'd hit eight years old. Momentarily, Valen spared a thought for the strange cleric who'd kept the shrine, hidden as it was in the catacombs under the Temple of Helm. She hoped the old woman was still alive - she'd been kind enough, for a cleric of the Lady.

Hanging the tools from her string belt, the thief left her hideout through the main entrance, rather than the street-level one the gofer had used. Skittering across the top of the world with the surety of an experienced roofwalker, she was at the boathouse within minutes. Concealing herself, she settled down to wait. If Lehtinan said 'before dawn', he usually meant 'right this damn minute'.

People came and went from the boathouse - more than you'd expect, considering that it served solely as a storehouse and living area for Lehtinan's slaver cadre. Eventually, the innkeeper left the building, obviously annoyed, and started moving back towards the Copper Coronet. Valen moved down to street-level carefully, then stepped out of an alleyway as he passed it, falling into step beside him with her hood up.

"You wanted something?" she asked, roughening her voice. It was always wise to appear unattractive and gruff around the man.

"At last. You took your time." His voice was low and smooth, and felt like slime slipping gently across her skin. "You were supposed to meet me at the ship."

"I had business to finish. What can I do for you?" she tried to sound impatient, yet courteous at the same time.

"There is an item I wish to... acquire. In return, I will ignore your laxity in paying your taxes for these last few months, and give you a break for the next three months."

"Generous. What is this item, and how do you suggest I procure it?"

"A statuette, only so high." He held his hands about a foot apart. "It is a rather lurid depiction of the Tyrant. Though sadly he is no longer with us, I have found a market for it among those who... well. You don't need to know that. Simply enough, it is in Talos' temple. Entering should be simple. I am certain that this is within your power. You have three days. Talk to Boul for any tools you might need, but I will expect them to be returned." With that, he quickened his pace to a purposeful stride, leaving her behind to think. She had no choice but to do the job, but - this might just be the kind of opportunity she'd need. She was pretty sure that the masked lord would protect her from Talos' personal ire, so it would be the priests she'd have to dodge, and they'd be fooled easily enough as long as she didn't leave anything behind. Changing track towards the chandlery that served as a front for Lehtninan's safehouse, she started mentally composing the list of things she'd need.

By the time she'd got there, she thought she was ready. Going round the side, she slipped in through the worker's entrance.

"Boul? Lehtinan said you'd give me what I need. It's about the statue." she spoke softly so that it wouldn't carry into the front of the shop, but the fat man came around from the store-room, dusting his hands off.

"He did, did he? Well then. Lets see. You cased it?"

"Not tonight. Check the whole area often enough. Gonna need some rope, trap kit, gloves an' a mask. One of the good ones."

"Heh. Going high, since you aint paying?"

"Hey. He wants this statue so bad, he can pay. He aint exactly giving me cash, an' he said dire if I don' bring your gunk back."

"Right-o. Don't blame 'im. Kay, lessee... here." He went into the other, smaller store room then came back with a small backpack. "Yeh'v got rope inna main, gloves an' mask inna side, an' trap kit inna other side. Sure dat's it? I hear them priests are pretty mean magicians."

"Well, 'less you got some magic for me? Shimmerin' Sash, Sandthief Ring?"

"Better. I wanted ta try dis out." He fished around in the backpack. "One 'o your lot dropped it by. Said I'd know who ta give it to. Lehtinan don't know 'bout this." He brought his hand out, then presented its contents to her.

"Is that... a shadow torc?" Valen blinked, reaching forward to touch the heavy, silver neck-ring.

"Sure is. Der real deal, too, not some Mystra jack-off's imitation." He pushed it into the thief's hands. She took it, then reached up and put it on, turning it so that the clasp sat at her throat. When the torc touched flesh, knowledge entered her mind. The torc wasn't a gift - like the other equipment, it would need to be returned once its purpose was complete. Within the temple was the twin to the statue Lehtninan desired. The first statue showed Bane in congress with a succubus and an erinyes. The second depicted Shar engaged in unspeakable acts with unnamed creatures. Both statues, not just the Bane figure, were needed for Lehtninan's commissioners' purposes, though they did not know it. The torc was intended to ensure that they did not get the blasphemous second statue. Instead, Valen was directed to return it to a place she had sworn never to visit again. The Secret Shrine.

She decided she'd worry about that later. For now, she nodded her thanks to Boul before shouldering the backpack and darting out into the street. There were a few hours of darkness left, and it should be enough to get the statuettes.

Once she was out in the street, she slipped into the shadows of an alleyway and moments later was skittering across the roofs like a spider. All said, it was probably a good hour's walk from the slums to the temple district, but she was there in half that thanks to her more direct route. At the edge of the district, however, she was forced to slow and circle around on the ground. A network of canals surrounded the district, and the only way across was either a swim (unpleasant in the least) or across one of the guarded bridges.

Unless, that is, you had the ability to step from one shadow to another. Valen circled the district until she was happy, and then reached up to touch the torc around her neck and stepped into the deep shadow of a doorway. A moment of disorienting darkness and sucking cold, and she finished the motion by stepping into the porch of her destination. Her foot fell silently, and she held her breath as she stared at the back of the black-armoured templar less than two feet away. She turned, peering in through the small window in the wall next to the closed temple door - '_so much for the doors to the house of the god always being open!_', she grinned to herself - and then stepped back into the shadows before emerging from another shadowed doorway just inside the entrance. After looking around carefully, she darted across to another doorway halfway down the corridor and activated the torc's second ability, her skin darkening and changing until she resembled little more than a patch of shadow herself. When she stood still, she was nothing more than a shadow within a shadow, and the priest shuffling past missed her completely. When he was past, she allowed the shadow-meld to fade before moving on. According to Lehtinan, the statuettes were in the High Priestess' chambers. Valen hadn't been in the temple before, but it seemed fairly obvious that they would be nearer the back, deeper inside the temple. At the end of the corridor, she found an open door that led to the main altar room. Slipping inside the door, she held herself against the wall and shadow-melded while she looked around. The inside of the room was arranged on walkways over a dark pit, making it almost impossible to sneak around because the gantries were only a few feet wide, and each linking platform had a templar or bound guardian on it.

'_How the hell did he expect me to do this? Did he know that the torc would be there? No, he can't have... but then, how..?_' Valen felt her mind going into overdrive as she tried to figure out why she'd been given this job. She had no reputation for burglary, and the idea of her using wizardry was laughable. Put bluntly, this mission would be impossible - unless you were a shadow-user or a ghost.

A door creaking brought Valen's mind back to her situation, and she looked across the room to halfway along the left-hand wall. A door had opened there and the high priestess herself had stepped out of it wearing full robes. She closed the door behind her, though Valen noticed with a grin that she didn't lock it. Valen watched as the priestess crossed to the altar and rang the gong beside it with a touch of her fingers, sending crackling lightning along pathways in the walls and into the other parts of the temple. A moment later, the doors all slammed open as Templars, priests and acolytes hurried into the room. The blued-steel armour of the Templars melded well with the white and blue robes of the priests and the turquoise robes of the acolytes. After a moment, the entire priesthood - except, presumably, those who still stood guard - was stood on the main platform. Each man or woman held a spear in their left hand, and on some unseen signal raised the weapon into the air before slamming the butt against the floor. A shock went up each one before coalescing into a crackling blue aura around the heads of the spears. At the same time, the ambient light of the room dimmed as though power were being taken from the mage-lights that graced the walls. The entire room was cast into shadow as the glow from the Talos-blessed spears became the only light source. The high priestess rose from where she kneeled at the altar a moment later, turning in a dramatic sweep of electric-blue robes and storm-grey stole as she raised her arms and began to speak.

"Faithful!" She called, and the spears were raised. "We are gathered in preparation of the Great Ritual. Many of you have questioned the nature of the recent preparations and the construction of the lightning globes. Question no longer, for tonight we begin. Three days hence, the Stormlord will take his rightful position as the overlord of Faerun's Pantheon! Will you be a part of this ritual?"

"We Will." The entire congregation repeated, the room filling with voices. Valen's breath caught at the prospect of what was being begun. She knew the stories of the Time of Troubles as well as anyone her age - though she'd been too young to remember herself, the Shrinekeeper had told her since of when Shar had walked among them - and of Bane's death. Valen was certain that this ritual had something to do with the two statuettes. Perhaps they sought to use Bane's residual power - drawn through the statue in his likeness - and give it to their god? Then what part would the other statue..?

'_They seek to drain the Lady of Loss' power into their own god!_' she realised. For some reason, that thought plagued her, as though it were an outrage. A moment later, her hand went to the torc at her throat.

'_I don't know anything about this stuff, how did..? This damn torc, it's affecting my mind. I'd better get this done, and quickly._' she realised with a mental curse.

The head priestess was speaking again, she realised belatedly, and her words were trouble. Valen felt her hair starting to stand on end, and realised that even as the cleric exhorted her people to vigilance, their god was responding and granting them the gift of true sight. When that happened, she would be seen. Thinking quickly, she jumped off the edge of the platform and swung herself up under it by her arms before holding onto the network of supporting ironwork underneath with her legs. Unfortunately, it seemed, she couldn't use the undersides of the walkways for travel - the ironmongery was only present at the ends of each passage. The dark pit receded infinitely below her as she dangled precariously, and she couldn't know for sure that her rope would reach to the next walkway - or even if she could make the passage undetected.

'_I should have gone over the roof like I originally planned..._' she cursed herself for trying to be too clever. If she used the torc's shadow-step ability any more, she wasn't sure if it would be the last time it worked - the amulets had a daily distance limit, after all - or even if it would make the trip. She might need the last however long to get out again. With a silent sigh, she decided that she had to risk the jump. Reaching back and up, she fumbled with the backpack to get at her rope before trying it on to the decorative ironwork she hung from, then tied the other end to the hilt of her dagger. She span the knife a few times on the end of the rope to build up power before throwing it at the next passage. It struck with a clatter, then the momentum overcame the obstacle and it slipped into the pattern. Valen was certain someone must have heard the strike, but it was too late to worry about that now, or even to check how well the line was fixed. She quickly released the knot at her end of the rope and retied it around her waist before trusting to luck and releasing her legs from the walkway. She fell immediately, and grabbed at the rope to control her transit as she swung down and around up to the third walkway - the one the high priestess had stepped from. With a tug, she pulled the rope free and retrieved her dagger before rolling up onto the walkway and pushing through the door. She slammed the portal behind her as armoured feet pelted down the walkway towards her and jammed it shut with a chair. It wouldn't hold even one platemailed cleric of destruction, let alone twenty, but it might give her time.

Turning, she looked around the room and grinned. The two statues were standing proud on the dresser amidst candles and burning incense. She almost reached in and picked up the statuettes before realising that there was a pattern drawn around them. Breaking it with skin might be a bad idea. Instead, she reached over the hexagram with a decorative candlestick from a nearby holder and knocked the statues over so that they fell outside the lines of the warding and ducked. The release of power blew out all the lights in the room and splintered several wardrobes. If the shockwave had hit her, she would probably be lying with broken ribs and maybe a ruptured heart. She stood up again and grabbed the statues, slipping them into her backpack and trying not to blush at the subject material. A moment later, the door was smashed inwards, lightning-charged spears casting shadows across the darkened room once more. Turning, the masked thief saluted the clerics mockingly and stepped back into a shadow, disappearing into the darkness.


	3. Shadowchild

**Disclaimer:** Baldur's Gate and it's sequels, along with the characters Valen and Rose (and others who will appear later) are property of Bioware and Wizards of the Coast.

The plot, the Circle of Shadows, and all other associated characters are mine, however.

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Shadowchild**

_Faces swirled before her, some she knew, some she did not... A white-haired girl with golden eyes and the scent of death... a beautiful woman with fine-boned features, noble-pale skin and blackest hair... the slaver-lord Lehtinan... the beautiful, sylvan dark priestess who raised her... the goddess and the masked lord... a horrid spider-centaur... a strange woman who looked like Valen might, if she were older and crippled... voluptuous flax-haired Rose, speaking of oak bark and death... places barely believed in, and safe homes filled with terror for the unwary... a myriad of images and thoughts and possibilities, the reflections of truth and lies that dwell in deepest shadow..._

Valen felt her eyes crack open, revealing an ochre-stone ceiling. She turned her head, looking sideways at the candles on the wall and the shadows they cast. Groaning, she sat up. Her clothes were gone, as was her equipment, and she wore nothing but a knee-length black robe. She hadn't seen one in this style since...

"So... even after everything, I ended back here..." she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the padded stone slab she lay upon and running a hand through her lank hair. The cold of the underground shrine seemed warm after steeping so long in endless shadow, and the robe was more than adequate for modesty and warmth.

"You had a close shave. I'm glad. You drained the torc too much; it didn't have the power to get you out of Shadow as well as into it." The woman who entered the secret shrine's small infirmary spoke with a musical voice that hinted at mysteries unknowable. Valen looked up at her, and couldn't help but stare at the high priestess of shar once more. In the eight years since Valen had left the shrine, Navarra hadn't changed in the slightest. From her finely sculpted elven features to her star-white hair and forest-green eyes to the beautiful, shining-scaled moth wings, decorated by patterns of writhing shadow that stretched from her mixed-blood shoulders, the half-fey star elf was still as beautiful and unblemished as the first day Valen had seen her.

"M... mistress Darkwind. Forgive me." Valen bowed her head quickly as she realised she was staring.

"There is nothing to forgive. You have admitted your ties to the dark lady by completing the job, and have spent time communing with her essence. Even to me, the return of a lost daughter is something to be celebrated. A mere extension of power to retrieve you when your communion threatened to absorb you is little enough to pay to see you returned to us." The shadow-adepts' forehead creased in a frown, then. "You are returning to us, yes? Your masked lord forsook you, but the keeper of secrets extended her arm to keep you safe. You have had time to consider your folly."

"I saw 'im, in me dream..." Valen responded slowly. "I dun... what 'appened to the statues?"

"They are safe. You may take the Bane statue back to your slaver if you wish. We wish only to protect our mistress' interests, after all." The elf smiled a small smile, and Valen nodded.

"Wha's so special 'bout them two statues?" the thief asked, but the arcane devotee shook her head.

"That is a secret." the immortal winked, her voice playful suddenly. Navarra's mood-swings could be dangerous, Valen remembered suddenly, especially when she started to get mischievous.

"Ya mean like the fact yer eight 'undred an' sixty four, e'en though ya look shy a'hundred twenty?" Valen returned, matching her grin.

"Who told you that?" The priestess scowled, fingering the cufflink on her left wrist.

"Uh... lucky guess?" Valen stuttered, and Navarra smirked.

"You'll have to do better than that, young lady. Did you read my diary before you left, all those years ago?"

"'Course not! I jus' promise not to tell!" Valen retorted, and the half-fey stopped playing with the cufflink, folding her arms instead and raising an eyebrow.

"It was Ilena, wasn't it? You know you can't hide anything from your mother." Navarra replied, patiently.

"I aint going t'say. Foster-mother or no, the shrine children dun betray each other. E'en if they's not children any more. That was the rule... remember?"

"Well, that's true. I'm glad."

"Er... wait, what?" Valen blinked, stammering.

"That you consider yourself one of them still. When I founded this shrine two hundred years ago, I never hoped to instil such loyalty, especially not in someone who already betrayed us once." Navarra smiled, sitting on one of the other beds and smoothing her robe - a slightly more elaborate version of what Valen herself wore - across her thighs.

"I left, but I never betrayed you. Nor'd Rose - Sharandra. Aint no-one e'en 'spects the shrine might exist. We protected you."

"Rose? Is that what she's calling herself now? Interesting that she chose that path. When you leave, you should tell her that our arms are still open. She could benefit from my knowledge. I suppose that imparting a few secrets might be worthwhile in return for the occasional service."

"You'd let me.. leave?" Valen blinked. "But... I thought from what you said... you want me to stay here, in the shrine again."

"Of course I would love to have you living here with us, but you've shown that you're trustworthy. You're of an age now that you can go through your ritual. You could be one of us in full. You would have nothing to fear from Lehtinan or the Shadow Thieves if you accepted her sigil, you know. It doesn't even mean that you have to be a cleric."

"Ritual? Sigil? I... I dun unnerstand. I got a bit mem'ry about something to do with a ritual that some of the older orphans wen' through, but..."

"The ritual of adulthood. It binds a part of shadow into you, extending the Goddess' protection over you while you yet live."

"In't that dange'rous? What 'appens if somethin' goes wrong, or..?" Valen shivered, remembering the deadly cold of the shadow-place and trying to imagine a part of that inside her.

"The worthy may lose themselves, yes. There is no shame in becoming one with shadow, however. To many, it is the intended result. I am one of the few who believe that the ritual is designed to strengthen Her earthly agents rather than enumerate her ephemeral hordes, however. You are strong, and you have far more worldly experience than most. You will assuredly survive, Valen." The fey reached over and stroked her cheek tenderly. "I do care for all my children, even the wayward ones."

"Thank you, shadowmistress... I... I'd forgot, when I left. All I thought of were freedom and me own path... but the shadows were always there fer me."

"I know, child. I know. Come, and eat. There are some you must meet, though you really must do something about this horrible way of talking you have acquired." Navarra stood, offering Valen her hand, and the thief took it to follow her out of the infirmary and into the corridor. As they walked, Valen scarcely had to look to recognise the surrounds for they had not changed in eight years, seemingly as constant as their warden. The underground complex was much larger than anyone who had not seen it would give credit to being possible, stretching for almost a mile under the temple district as it did.

Presently, they came to the dining hall. Navarra lead her around through a hidden passage to the dais entrance she always appeared from before pushing the curtain aside to lead Valen through. As the thief entered behind her, all sound in the hall stopped. Apparently it was a mealtime, for some thirty children ranging in age from four to fourteen, as well as six or seven adults were seated at long trestle tables eating what appeared to be some kind of gruel or porridge. From memory, Valen knew that it was somehow manufactured from smuggled ingredients from the world above, and the taste varied from mealtime to mealtime. For all it looked the same, it wasn't bad stuff.

"Good evening, my children." Navarra said into the quiet, and a few of the younger ones chorused a reply. The older ones, however, were far more interested in Valen. "This is my daughter, Valen. She has been away from us for some time, but has returned to us now. Please, make her welcome."

She motioned for Valen to find a seat before taking her place on the dais to eat her own meal. It was the same gruel everyone ate, but somehow it always looked more appetising in the high priestess' bowl.

Valen scanned the room for a moment before moving solemnly over to an empty place where two of the younger adults had squished up. With dignified solitude, she stepped over the bench and sank into her seat, watching as an invisible servant placed a bowl in front of her before slowly turning to look at the girl next to her.

"Ilena, pass the salt?" She asked, completely deadpan as though she had not been gone for eight years. The nineteen-year-old half-elf kept a straight face for all of ten seconds before bringing out a huge grin and a chuckle.

"Of course. Where's Sharandra, she not back with you?" Ilena frowned as she passed the earthenware bowl over.

"Nah. Workin' the bridge, liftin' 'er skirts." Valen didn't notice the half-elf's incredulous look as she studied the white grains as she dumped a half-handful into her porridge. "Ah, I aint 'ad salt fer years!" she grinned after mixing it in and taking a spoonful.

"Shy little Sharandra, working as a streetwalker? You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Sure as shadow is dark. Calling herself Rose now. Got a license and everythin'."

"Crazy..." Ilena shook her head. "What about you? Still nicking stuff?"

"Always. Other peoples' purse strings are my own. Easy. You get your mark, you flick your wrist, and that's all there is to it."

"Hah. Well, luck with that - or are you going to turn priestess like Karen here?" Ilena gestured to the girl sitting on the other side of her, and Valen looked over surprised.

"Kar? I didn't recognise you! Ya've changed a bunch. Used ta always chop your hair right off, never put you as a red." Valen grinned, and Karenya shrugged.

"It is not a good colour for sneaking, and I always did want to be a thief. That was before She called me, though. Now... nothing is the same. You have been well?"

"Ya, but I feel so dumb now. Ya all are talkin' so nice, an' I soun' like a gutter rat."

"You are a gutter rat, Valen, and you always will be." A seventeen-year-old boy with brown hair had wandered over after finishing, and Valen realised that she was the only one still eating. Even so, she tilted back on the bench to look up at him.

"Aw, yer stil pissy over that ammy? That was years ago, Char!"

"Pssh. First I find out that mother is a pansy magic-user, now I see she's calling lifters her daughter? She'll be done soon."

"We're all her daughters, Rechar. Even you." Valen told him, and was answered by sniggers from the other two. For his part, the assassin fair turned purple before growling and stomping off.

"I have wanted to say something like that for a very long time." Ilena shook her head as Valen gulped down the last of her gruel. "Anyway. I had better be going. Lady Vasz is taking me shadowhopping."

"You're learning to Dance?" Valen asked, surprised, and the urban ranger nodded. "Wow. Coming to it late much?"

"Not really. If Lady Vasz can learn it at eighty, I can manage at nineteen. Besides, I've been taking lessons for two years now. See what you missed?"

"Ow, yeah. Still glad I left though."

"Of course you are..." Ilena muttered, rolling her eyes as she left. Karenya stood up a moment later.

"You should talk with mother about taking the ritual. It is worthwhile." she murmured before moving away.

"Will do..."


	4. Sister of Shadows

Disclaimer: Baldur's Gate and it's sequels, along with the characters Valen and Rose (and others who will appear later) are property of Bioware and Wizards of the Coast.

The plot, the Circle of Shadows, and all other associated characters are mine, however.

Chapter 4 - Sister of Shadows

The Circle of Shadows is a long-established Sharran cult that over the centuries and under the guidance of its founder, the Arcane Devotee Navarra Darkwind, has infiltrated almost every level of society in many countries on Abeir-Toril. Members are drawn from many walks of life, but the core - the elite inner circle - are all orphans, taught and raised by the Mother of each cell. The Mother is the leader of a cell, and each Mother is an Arcane Devotee or Cleric, Shadow Adept and many things besides.

Members of the inner circle are known as Brothers and Sisters, and in many ways their relationships can be viewed as though they were blood relatives. Carnal relationships between members of the inner circle - collectively Siblings or Children - are frowned upon, but not unheard of. They are thought to form bonds more powerful than those of the Children to the Mothers, and this would destabilise the Circle.

The Bonding of Shadow, known normally as the Ritual, is the final initiation rite into the Inner Circle. Cousins - Cultists of the Circle not counted among the Children - can never prove their loyalty to the point of undergoing the Ritual. Many do not agree with this, but without the Mothers there can be no Ritual.

The Shrine in Athkatla was located in the catacombs underneath the temple of Lathander, an irony that none of those privileged enough to know of its' existence missed.

All this went through Valen's mind as she stood in front of the massive double-doors that led into the shrine proper. She was wearing a simple white robe that hung close to her body and a hooded mantle that hung to her elbows, fastened at the front with a simple gold bar on level with her collarbone.

The doors swung open, and she started walking forward. The shrine had changed little since she'd last been in here, the seven pillars either side of the central aisle holding the roof up, three on the right and four on the left, the pews either side - far more than the Circle currently needed - and the dim lighting were all the same. The shrine was lit by violet-tinged mage-lights that only illuminated about three feet around each light. Since the lights were set about seven feet apart, a large portion of the shrine was perpetually in shadow.

At the far end of the chamber, a good sixty feet away, the high priestess stood robed and hooded in black. Only a strand of white hair hanging from the front of her shadowed hood and the wings rising from her back gave any clue to her identity. She was facing the doors, but said nothing. Behind her, a statue of the Goddess in her aspect as the Lady of Loss, a tall, regal-looking noble in mourning, rose from a raised dais. Either side of her was a larger mage-light that cast light over the whole area between the wall and the front line of pews, flickering like flames and making the priestess' shadow dance. Valen stopped halfway up the aisle, noticing the seven inner circle siblings kneeling in front of Navarra. They wore black robes, identical to her white clothing apart from the colour.

"Who enters this holy place?" Navarra asked, ritually.

"A daughter of the Goddess seeking enlightenment." Valen responded.

"Come forth that you may be judged." The high priestess responded, and Valen walked forwards until she was standing just in front of the Mother. She folded her legs so that she was kneeling and Navarra raised her hands, cupping them around Valen's cheeks like her face was a chalice.

Moments later, the thief felt the first stirrings of power as Navarra called her shadow, the inky patterns flowing across her skin and down her hands until they started moving across Valen as well. As though tossed by a breeze, their robes and Valen's hair started to flutter, then as the shadow spread further across the fifteen-year-olds' skin the force of the wind increased, throwing Navarra's hood back and revealing her face. Under the influence of the shadow, it was almost wholly inhuman, hollowed out and perfected until she was almost a caricature of beauty. Her emerald eyes were empty, almost soulless as flecks of darkness danced within them and her white hair flew free of the shadowsilk tie that held it controlled.

The shadow stopped flowing, and Valen felt an icy grip around her heart as it sank into her, the wind dying down even as the shadow-patterns faded.

"Pass on." Navarra's voice echoed as she dropped her hands, lifting Valen to her feet and putting a black dagger into her hands. The wall and statue behind her faded as though they were never there, though the flickering witchlights cast no illumination into the darkness where they had been. Though she was deeply into the ritual, Valen couldn't help but feel a trepidation when approaching the darkness. Anything could lay beyond... if anything did.

Navarra stepped aside and her acolyte started to walk forwards into the darkness. There was a moment of utter cold, a twisting, falling sensation, and then her feet found solid ground again. Though the room was unlit, she saw clearly the runic pattern on the floor, a prayer to the dark goddess filling the border of an incomprehensible magic circle. At the centre of the circle was a raised dais, and on top of the dais, an altar. Chained to the altar was a man, a beautiful, statuesque man whose presence almost stole her breath away. He was totally, gloriously naked, and though it was dark he seemed to sense her presence and looked at her.

"Glow for me..." She heard herself whispering, and a pained look crossed his face... a moment later, he did. Flowing from under his skin, the same way Navarra's shadow had come when called, a golden, celestial light spread to reveal him. His skin was gold-tinged, his muscled shoulders were speckled with feather patterns, and his beauty was undiminished for seeing it in the light. His flaxen hair and golden eyes gave his angelic ancestry as clearly as the holy glow he shed.

"Free me." He commanded without words. "Give up this darkness and join my lord in the light..."

Without another word, Valen advanced on him, stepping over the edge of the circle and into the halo of his glow. The Shadow within her fought the light, refusing to be banished, and mindlessly she raised the dagger in both hands, thumbs catching in her mantle as she did so and lifting her hood over her hair. The Aasimar started to plead, his confidence failing as he saw the darkness behind her eyes, and then his words were stolen as the dagger plunged into his heart, twisting to widen the wound. The universe held its' breath, and then Valen pulled the dagger free.

"For Shar..." She whispered as crimson blood fountained forth from the damaged ventricle, far more than should have been possible from the weakened muscle. Rather than falling, however, it stayed in the air, spreading out and starting to spin in the air, forming a blood-soaked whirlwind that drew Valen up into it as though she were weightless.

The dagger barely clung to slack fingers as she rose into the vortex, what was left of her concious mind obliterated by sensation. She gasped as the blood started to soak into her robes, dark stains spreading across the white cloth and exposed skin. Ecstasy arced through her as the power flowed into and around and through her soul, but oh, it hurt as parts of her were ripped away, a delicious agony that no mortal could endure.

She had no sense of time, but eventually the sensation faded, leaving her feeling a strange mix of emptiness and lingering euphoria. The vortex weakened as she fell slowly to stand atop the altar.

Dessicated flesh and dry bone crackled beneath her bare feet, sharp edges almost breaking the skin before she stepped clear. Without looking back at the dried-out husk that had been her sacrifice, she walked from the darkness of the inner shrine back out into the temple.

"You've returned to us." Navarra, her hood down now and the arcane power around her no longer prominent, was waiting with Ilena and Rechar. "Welcome."

"How long was I gone for..?" Valen asked, frowning. She felt little different, but underneath her mind she felt the shadow coiling, still wild and untamed despite being bound within her.

"Three days. It is good that you returned the statue to the slaver before going through with the ritual." Navarra smiled.

"Heh, yeah. Wonder what he'd think of this..." She murmured, looking around at the temple and glancing at her hand as she called the shadow to cover it.

"He must never know... Rechar, please tell the kitchen that Valen has returned."

"Yes, mother." The fighter muttered, failing to hide his sarcasm and getting a sting from Ilena's shadow for it. It wasn't the disrespect so much as that he hid it so poorly that earned him the chill touch.

"So, was it good for you too?" Ilena asked, teasingly, when he was gone.

"What do you mean?" Valen asked, walking the rest of the way towards the two women.

"Ilena here oversaw your ritual, shadowsister. If her reaction to the ending of the sealing is anything to go by, yours was as intense as any I have seen. It is well that the doors were locked." Navarra smiled, and her half-elven daughter blushed pink.

"Oh!" Valen blushed as well, thinking about how it had felt. Good didn't start to describe it. "Umm... I don't mean to break the mood, but... do you think I could have something to eat? I feel like I haven't eaten in a week, rather than just three days..."

"You say that as if not eating for three days were pleasant." Ilena chuckled. "Hey, Valen, guess what."

"Hmm?" Valen tilted her head, looking at the shadowdancer.

"You're talking properly again." She smirked, and Valen facepalmed. That accent had taken a lot of work to build up, so that she could fit in with the other street rats. Hopefully, she'd still be able to fake it.

"To answer your question, there is food being prepared by your younger siblings. Welcome to the Inner Circle, Valen Shadowchild." Navarra finished the conversation, and turned to leave the shrine. Behind them, the passage into darkness was again hidden by the back wall of the shrine, the Goddess' statue now showing her aspect as the Dark Goddess, a secretive figure with her arms crossed over her chest, a chakram held in each gloved hand.

The mess hall was empty at this time of day, the younger siblings involved in private study or meditation. Rechar hadn't waited around, but Karenya and Millia were talking in quiet voices at one of the tables. Navarra stayed only long enough to ask them to explain the Ritual's effects before leaving the four Sisters to talk. After a moment, bowls of gruel were brought out for Valen and Ilena.

"Tuck in while we speak." Millia suggested, flicking her sun-elven hair back over her shoulder. It was a futile gesture, as when she turned her head to glance at Karen a moment later the same hair slid back in front to tickle her neck.

"I suppose Mother has more important things to do." Karen mused before smiling. "I will likely never understand why initiates aren't told what to expect."

"The Ritual you just completed has bound a fragment of true shadow into you. You must still learn to use it if you wish to get the most out of its powers, but even if you don't wish to walk one of the Shadow paths, it will grant you strength. It is jealous, and will fight off any other who attempts to attack your life-force. You won't notice the cold so much, either." Millia spoke again, pushing her blonde locks back with a practiced movement.

"You've already noticed that you can call it forth to darken your skin. Shadow-melding is much easier with the power," Ilena added, helpfully. "And if you learn to 'jump, you'll be able to travel further than a normal 'dancer."

"As well, it offers a connection to the shadow-plane. You can draw strength from it much as it draws strength from others. With the shadow inside you, you're not just stronger, but faster, and from time to time it will give you warnings." Karenya added. "It will add strength to any spells you cast, making them harder to resist, and let you cast more of them before your energy wears out."

"That's... a lot. You're basically saying that, whatever I could do before, I can do it better now?" Valen blinked, stopping eating the stew-flavoured gruel for long enough to ask the question. It wasn't as filling as normal, and she put that down to a side-effect of the ritual.

"Pretty much, yes." Karenya grinned. "Isn't it great?"

"Not to mention, it looks pretty cool." Ilena smirked, and called her shadow out so that it lay against her skin in writhing patterns. It made her look powerful and fey, though she banished it the moment the door to the hall opened.

"Mother says that you're to let her rest if you're finished." The boy who entered told them. He was only a youngster, his voice high and girlish yet. "She also asked that you attend her, Karen." He looked at the redheaded cleric, who nodded.

"Alright. I'll see you all later, then." She stood and waved as she headed off in the direction of Navarra's workroom.

"We'll take our leave as well. Ilena, would you like to spar?" Millia looked at the thief, who nodded, and they went to head towards the salle. Valen sighed to herself, quietly, and went to find a room.

Three days later, she lurked in an alleyway, watching a mark. She was still living in the Shrine, but made daily trips to the surface to keep her hand in. The Children wanted for nothing, but that was, in part, due to the actions of the Inner Circle who worked to provide for them. Valen was still young for a Sister, but she had to do her part. The man she was watching was powerfully built, but it seemed artificial, as though his frame were too slight to support his mass. A moon elf, from his colouration. He wore mage robes, and seemed to be waiting for something. He was sitting idly on a fountain in Waukeen's Promenade, and looked somewhat ill-tempered. It was this, as much as the robes he wore, that made people stay clear of him.

Valen knew she couldn't make a move until he did, but from the look of the magic on his fingers and neck, he was worth the wait. After a short while longer, he perked up, however, and stood up straight to look at an elven woman who might almost be related - though where he was ruggedly handsome, for an elf, she was somehow dark in her quiet beauty. It reminded Valen of Navarra, somehow, despite the Moon Elf's black hair and violet-shaded skin. A flicker of memory made her pause - the womans' face was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

The two conversed for a moment, then came to an agreement and moved off into the crowd. Stepping clear of her hiding place, Valen strolled after them, slowly working the crowd to creep closer. Eventually, she was in a position to act. While the elves conversed - they were, indeed, siblings it transpired - she tripped, stumbling into the male.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" She muttered, moving away from him and getting lost in the crowd. Once she was out of sight, she slipped the ring she'd taken from his finger into her belt pouch and ducked into an alleyway shortcut.

"I'll be taking that back, thank you." The elf's arrogant voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned around and blinked at him.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, tilting her head and looking at him. "Are you speaking to me?"

"No-one else is here." His voice was quite pleasant, really, if you could get past the supreme self-confidence. "Bodhi, would you?"

"Of course..." The female's voice made her start and turn around in time to see a delicate arm reaching towards her. The elf was faster than she looked, and she'd swiped Valen's pouch before the human could even blink.

"Hey! Give that back!" She growled, lunging for the purse. The elf looked vaguely surprised when she grabbed it and pulled it from her hands.

"She's a live one, Joneleth." The woman's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Take the pouch, I have no need for your gold, but this ring is an heirloom." Bodhi held up the ring between her fingers, and Valen gaped. She hadn't even seen her move to take it out of the bag. "Why did you try to steal it? You're too young to have starving children, and you're too well fed to be scraping for yourself."

"It's a living." Valen lifted her chin, defiantly. "You got your stuff back, now you gonna let me go, or what?"

"Let you go? Why would we do something like that?" Bhodhi smiled. "My name is Bodhi, and I think that you might be just what we were looking for..."


End file.
